


Nobody's Purr-fect

by EmmaraldNightmare



Series: Blood Moon Series [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Anti-Void (Undertale), Bad Cooking, Blankets, Bonding, Bugs & Insects, Cat Ears, Chasing, Chemicals, Claustrophobia, Cleaning, Cooking, Cute Cat Antics, Dolls, Echo Flowers, Fighting, Fluff and Angst, Gardens & Gardening, Gen, Healing, Hunting, Kitten Dream, Major Character Injury, Mild Cannibalism, Referenced Trauma, Spiders, Swearing, Tea, Transformation Potion, Weapons, ZombieTale, breathing techniques, glitching, naps, neko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaraldNightmare/pseuds/EmmaraldNightmare
Summary: Turning Dream into a kitten was part of Dust’s plan, sort of.He didn’t want much, just a break from the cheerful idiot constantly picking fights and getting in the way of his ‘evil’ work.Being put in charge of looking after him wasn’t part of said plan.
Series: Blood Moon Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783549
Comments: 107
Kudos: 147





	1. It Seemed Like a Good Idea

**Author's Note:**

> I love cute animal stories, especially cats. So, this felt like too much fun not to do.

Humans sobbed, fleeing for their safety. Anyone else might’ve tried to stop the fishing boat from burning. But that was one of the perks of being a supposed villain, no one asked you to put out your own fires.

Screeches from a trio of Dust’s gaster blasters split the smoke. The skulls dive bombed a tiny crew of human fisherman aboard a vessel barely held together by barnacles and a prayer. Hell knew, everyone on board had been praying for him to fuck off and die for the last four hours. Rude. 

Cod, mackerel, and a flurry of other ugly sea suckers flew at his position on the end of the dock. Icy salt water sprayed his dangling legs when the pitiful throws missed him. Idiots, did they really think that idle threats or some flying seafood would get him to call off this off? Why would he want to? He raised his arm. The humans paled. One pleaded for mercy.

This was his kind of mission. 

Explosive shots of light bombarded the ocean next to the fishing boat. Feet scrambled to either get inside or hold firm against the resulting shock waves. Dust sniggered. At least the water crashing over the side of the railing had doused the flames. Really, if they were smart, they would’ve stayed put below deck with the monsters the second his attacks started and waited this out. But no, instead human bodies flew over the side on mass as they failed to grab anything to keep them aboard. A tangled mess of fishermen plummeted into the ocean, kicking and flailing. Several cursed at the skeleton pair while they bobbed in the water like rubber ducks in a child’s bathtub.

Dust flipped them off and fired again. Those faces, priceless! And the language! He should take notes. 

The Papyrus to his left patted his shoulder. “Relax, they’re not going anywhere.” 

Dust drummed at the wooden planks of the dock and tipped his skull up towards him. “You can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this; you’ve spent way too long being nice.”

Unlike Dust, the other skeleton hadn’t lowered his crimson hood against the sweltering sunlight. A line of cigarette smoke escaped from under it, billowing in the sea breeze. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Stretch said. 

Orange light tore through the ship’s cargo, sending fish guts raining on the screaming crew. A sour stench of rotting squid filled the air. It made Dust’s eyes water and burned his nose cavity even from where he sat. How ill must those humans be feeling? 

He clenched his teeth against the laughter in his throat. This was a complete success. No one would be eating that gunk now. Maybe they would’ve three hours ago, but not after it had been sitting in the hot sun all morning and the flies started to swarm. 

A brown bear staggered onto the deck. Sweat poured down his face as he turned pale and vomited over the railing. His crew mates in the water flailed away from the second onslaught of vile fluids sent their way in the last five minutes. 

Dust’s eye lights twinkled. The monster looked better than he had half an hour ago. At least he wasn’t clutching his sides in pain anymore or curled up in bed. The medicine Dust snuck into his ginger ale must’ve helped after all. 

It was food poisoning of course. Nightmare sensed the agony of it when it infected every monster on the ship and had called the two of them directly to this AU before the contaminated shipment could get to shore. Then left them to it while he headed back to prepare more doses. Dust sent a blaster to chase the stupid humans who had caused this, who had misdiagnosed their colleague’s suffering as sea sickness of all things! Why would anyone who had that get a job on a ship? A burly man punched the floating skull on the nose. He shrieked as it snapped at his arm and almost drowned himself reeling away from it. 

Good. 

The monsters here had barely been above ground for a month for fuck’s sake. What made these dimwits think they had any clue about diagnosing their illnesses?! Hell, this could’ve taken out half the magical population in town before anyone even knew what it was. They were lucky they were only getting a bath and a scare.

Let them suffer a little.

His left shoulder shrieked as magic pierced it. He faceplanted into a puddle. Muddy salt water seeped into the wound, bleeding the sting deeper into his marrow. Stretch shielded him and returned fire. He didn’t hit the attacker but, it was enough to send them bounding backwards.

The arrow burned Dust’s palm as he yanked it out and clenched his fist around it. Just one day, was that too much to ask? Just one where he could get on with his work without this asshole shooting at him and his family. He wiped the sludge from his skull and checked on his teammate.

Dream switched to his staff. The blue weapon clanged as it struck aside the bone attacks Stretch sent spiralling towards him. Luckily, the hood which covered most of the Papyrus’ face made him difficult to recognise. Then again, who would recognise the ex-do-gooder? From the cloak to his pants and trainers everything bled bright scarlet. The only colours to assure a victim that he was not some kind of crimson reaper were his black shirt and the bandana tied to his wrist. Not to mention the array of blades, explosives and other fun toys strapped across his chest. Thank you Error, Thank you Horror.

The newest member of the gang withdrew a tube from his belt. It extended to half his height, flicking out a glowing blade. He twirled the collapsible scythe above his skull with his right hand and took a shortcut directly in front of the positive guardian. Dream had three seconds to raise his staff to block before Stretch extended his left hand and used blue magic to flick him away like a fly. A splash followed the motion.

Stretch looked to Dust with a chuckle. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, but I still don’t need your help,” Dust said, discarding the arrow.

Stretch took a long drag on his cigarette and shrugged. “You keep telling yourself that pal.”

Dream clambered back onto the dock. Water dripped from him in thick streams but, that stupid happy grin he always wore was still plastered across his face. He turned it to the pair. 

“Blood Moon, Dust! It’s okay! I know you don’t want to do this!”

Dust rolled his eye lights. Here it came. You can be better. You’re stronger than Nightmare. He was getting sick of this power of friendship bull and if he had ears, he would’ve torn them off after the hundredth lecture. What did Dream know about them? He was the ever-happy guardian of positivity who couldn’t see past his own nose and had never really suffered a day in his life. Screw him and his friendship.

“I believe in you! We can help you! Like we did Blue- “

The dock exploded in a bullet storm of orange and purple. Dream trembled two meters away from the disintegrated planks he had been standing on a moment ago. Dust raised a bone blade, eyes aflame, daring the oh so perfect guardian to say…one…more…thing.

Dream gave him another sickly cheery smile. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Dust charged. 

“Wait! Don’t just-“ Stretch’s voice cut off when the guardian dodged around the attack and whacked his opponent in the stomach. Dust choked. A jolt of pain shot up his back as his body slammed into a post behind him.

The crowd in the ocean cheered. 

Dust glared at the skeleton standing above him. Dark shadows barely covered by makeup hung under Dream’s eye sockets. His body sagged as he fought to stay upright. 

“I get it. It’s not your fault. But the people here need that food,” Dream said. He pointed his weapon at him, dangerously close to his skull. Stretch kept back, eye lights scanning the pair for an opening. 

Dust sneered. “It’s ruined, where were you? Up all night at some sleep over with the other brain-dead Sanses? At least take this seriously.” 

His smile widened as Dream’s composure flickered. 

The guardian raised his arms. “I’m sorry.” 

As the staff came down, three things happened at once. Dust flicked a water balloon from his pocket into the air, took a shortcut away and tackled a running Stretch to the ground before he could get any closer. Dream’s eye sockets widened as the staff’s star tip pierced the thin membrane. Thick slime exploded from it with a bang, covering the skeleton.

Stretch shoved Dust off him. “Do me a favour. Warn me next time you want to pull something like that.” 

Dust wasn’t listening. He darted across the dock to check on the result. The guardian of positivity was gone. In his place a ball of golden fluff uncurled itself. It yawned, staring up at him with gleaming yellow eyes. Dust scrunched his face at the creature. He lifted it by the scruff of its neck and pulled it to eye level.

A kitten?

It looked like Dream. The markings were a bit of a give-away, a star on the chest and a ring around the head, both pure white. But that was wrong. The potion was meant to turn someone into an animal that suited them. He had expected a clownfish or maybe a fragile butterfly. Well, at least he wouldn’t need the jar anymore and this thing couldn’t shoot arrows at him.

Dream tried to lick his nose. He scowled and held him further away.

Stretch peered at the tiny creature. “Cute. What now?” 

Dust opened a portal back to the hideout with his free hand.

\-----

The gang’s reaction was not exactly what he expected.

Cross stumbled over the living room carpet as he ran trailing blankets of every colour. A basket sagged on a chair, piled with so many pillows that the woven bed was no longer visible under the soft mountain. He kept patting the fluffy creation and calling Dream over to give it a try. 

Blue had likewise located every weapon he could find in the hideout and locked them in the training room. The stack had been something out of one of Dust best fever dreams. It almost hit the ceiling for crying out loud and he didn’t even recognise some of the goodies in there. What a waste. 

The little skeleton stared at him hard. Dust handed over a set of explosives. Blue tapped his foot. Dust handed over the spare set...and the extra spare set before the other left him alone to pester Killer. Dust sighed and tucked away his remaining weapons. The kid would be putting up bubble wrap next.

Dream ignored their efforts. He was focused on a scowling Horror who had taken up residence against the far wall, edging away any time the kitten got close.

Killer noticed. “Whatever your instincts are telling you about having a cat in the castle, ignore them. We don’t need the repair bills.”

Horror didn’t say anything. But he did shudder as Dream tried to sniff him. 

Dust pulled out a first aid kit from under the couch and checked for more bandages. The wound on his back still throbbed but, at least Nightmare’s healing magic had sealed the cracks. His soul lifted as he watched his family. No more getting shot at or smacked with that stupid pixie stick just so the hero of the multiverse could earn some points with the locals. 

No Dream, no constantly fighting him for a while, no problem. He found some pain killers and swallowed them dry.

“Right,” Nightmare said, getting up from his armchair. “Let’s address the elephant in the room.”

“Cat.” Dust chuckled.

Nightmare ignored him, shuffling sideways as Dream left Horror to swipe at one of his tentacles. “Who’s going to look after him?”

Blue and Cross volunteered immediately. The pair were quickly shot down by the logic of Nightmare wanting his brother to survive this experience without being accidentally crushed in a hug or sent to the vet with chocolate poisoning. The two could look after pet rocks but, dietary control and emotional restraint were not in their vocabulary. Never would be. 

Dust lounged back into the couch cushions and pulled his hood over his skull. It didn’t matter who looked after the thing. It was a cat; those creatures could take care of themselves, couldn’t they?

“What about Ink?” Nightmare asked.

Blue halted in his efforts to wrestle a knife case away from Killer. “I can keep him from panicking for a few days, but I don’t know about any longer. Is that enough time to make an antidote?”

Dust gave a thumbs up. His body relaxed against the soft fabric. A few days holiday was nothing to sneeze at and he was going to enjoy every second of it now he didn’t need to worry about the guardian of positivity trying to pick a fight every few hours. 

Nightmare blocked his light, rubbing at the area between his sockets. “Dust, this has to be the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done.”

“Thanks.”

He knew it wasn’t a compliment, but that expression was worth it.

“I’m serious. I’d like to go three days without a fight as well but that doesn’t mean I want you two- arrgghh!”

Dream dug his claws into one of his twin’s tentacles, eyes sparkling as he scraped them across the gloopy surface. Nightmare scooped him up. 

“I am not a scratching post.” He gave the cat one of his stares. It was a look that had condemned hundreds to dust and thousands into a gibbering panic. Dream pawed at his brother's forehead.

How sweet. Dust jumped up and headed for the door. “I’ll leave you to it.” 

The world flipped as a black coil snatched his leg and dangled him in the air. Marrow rushed to his skull; the room swayed. 

“Nice try, but you’re not escaping your punishment that easily,” Nightmare said. There was no humour in his tone. Cold radiated from him in a crushing pressure.

Dust’s stomach sank. Crap, maybe turning the king of darkness’ younger sibling into a pet wasn’t the best idea. Should he have asked first? 

No. He wasn’t apologising for wanting a rest. Nightmare could punish him all he wanted. He was a rock. He could handle anything, spanking, grounding –

“You can care for him.” 

Confiscation, starvation…wait what?

Dust’s chest tightened as he was lowered onto the floor and a mewing fluffy weight was placed onto it. “Aren’t you going to drop me into a collapsing AU or throw me out a window?”

Nightmare moved towards the door. “No.”

“Can we consider those options?! What if I lose him or accidently let him get dusted or-“

His words died in his throat as the dark skeleton halted and turned his gaze. It was icy; a frozen glare that sent a chill up Dust’s spine and promised the hundreds of ways a guardian of all negative emotions could make life very unpleasant for someone. 

“Don’t.” 

Shit.


	2. Cats and Chemicals Don't Mix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dust tries to look after Dream. Not his best plan.

A vial of highly explosive chemicals fell from his work bench. Carpet fibres burned into Dust’s kneecaps as he dove for the container, letting out a sigh of relief as his phalanges closed around it and added it to the three already in his arms. 

He scanned the bedroom, paying careful attention to the shadows and anything else which could blow up everything in a close vicinity. Fuck, that was a long list. He was finally starting to see what the others meant by his room was ‘a mine field waiting to happen.’

Where was the kitten?

A tail flicked out from behind a box on one of his higher shelves. Dream sauntered out and twitched his whiskers at a bottle on the same ledge. A thin liquid inside gurgled. Bright green bubbles floated through it and the kitten’s eyes sparkled in wonder as it watched them. Dream reached a paw out. Dust paled.

“No,” he said. 

Dream turned his head at the voice. However, his attention kept drifting back to the bobbing foam. The paw edged closer.

“Noooo.”

Dust lowered the items in his arms onto the floor. Gently, not making any sudden movements, he reached up towards the kitten. The bottle wobbled under the little paw. 

It was fine…he wasn’t about to be beaten by a cat. 

His hand shot forward. 

Dream dodged and swat the bottle off the shelf. The glass smashed against the floor. Dust covered his mouth, coughing against the sweet smoke. The damn cat leapt onto the floor and stared at him as if wondering why he was glaring daggers at it. As if it had done nothing wrong at all. Dream wandered over to the curtains and nuzzled against them. 

Alright, if he stayed there for a while, he could hide everything before anything else got broken. Dust collected a box and packed the more dangerous chemicals into it.

Scraping echoed behind him. A curtain shook as Dream clambered up it by his claws. 

Dust continued packing. If it kept him busy and out of trouble that fuzzball could play with his furniture all he wanted.

Dream’s feet kicked at the fabric. He slipped an inch.

It was fine, Dream never cared if he hurt him or his family. If he fell it was his own fault. The guardian of positivity had been through worse than a tumble anyway. 

Claws scrambled at the material; the tiny body squirmed as it slid backwards again.

Dust put a bomb in the box. It was fine.

Another paw popped out of the curtain.

IT WAS FINE.

Dream plummeted.

Dust dove at the kitten. Blue magic shot from his phalanges towards it. Dream twisted his body and kicked off against the wall. He came down on Dust’s skull, using it as a springboard to send himself into a graceful landing behind him. The wall quivered as Dust’s momentum slammed him into it face first. He lay at the bottom cursing. 

Was this cat trying to kill him? Even if it still had the guardian’s personality and emotions, it shouldn’t know who he or anyone else in this castle was anymore. So, either this kitten was ridiculously lucky, or Dream was a lot more of a bastard than he gave him credit for.

He reached out and used a dangling rope to yank himself up. Dream curled himself around Dust’s legs, trapping his ankles. Dust’s soul jumped into his throat as he tripped backwards and hit his spine against the floor. 

A creak signalled that the rope had torn a shelf free. 

A barrage of books, chains and weapons that he had kept from Blue rained down on him, beating his bones. He shuddered as a knife stuck itself into the carpet an inch from his skull. When his brain assured him he was indeed still alive he started breathing again and turned to Dream. The kitten sat to his left, tail swaying in a playful arch. It rubbed up against his chin and purred.

This cat was definitely going to kill him. Okay, maybe he would start working on that antidote.

\-----

Dust shuffled through the grocery bag. Smooth glass jars clattered against each other as he laid them out on the kitchen’s tablecloth, adding what Blue had bought to his own collection. Colourful liquids glowed with magic. Hot to the touch and perfectly preserved. He lifted one up and rocked it absently between his phalanges. It wasn’t easy to get some of these ingredients. After all, this one took him several days to ferment. But it was what he needed to get kitty cat Dream out of his life.

So much for his holiday. 

Something leapt onto his femur, claws first. Dust yelped and flailed his leg to dislodge the pest. 

The jar struck the kitchen floor. Blue slime oozed out. A golden streak flew out from under the table. Dream took a sniff of the shiny sludge and stuck out his tongue. 

“No!” Dust said, yanking the cat back.

The other gave him a puzzled look then moved away from the puddle. Stupid naïve thing couldn’t even tell the difference between glass filled liquids and food. It was Dream alright. Dust didn’t care about the cat but, if he had let it die Cross and Blue would’ve been sad. Not to mention, Nightmare would’ve killed him. A warm cheek brushed up against his leg as Dream nuzzled it. 

Wait…was he grateful? Dust didn’t need that. He was a real monster. A Dark Sans. Who didn’t require appreciation from anything so tiny and soft and…fluffy. He slid away from the prodding nose. Better clean this up before the dumbass tried to kill himself again.

The tepid goo slid around his phalanges as he gathered the shards in his palm and cleaned up the spill, almost biting his tongue in two when one sliced through the bone. He hurled the pieces into the trash and washed the cut. 

This better not get infected. 

The lower cabinet’s handle almost snapped as he yanked it open, rummaging for some healing gel. A small mew came from his left. 

That thing better not cause more trouble while he was in here. 

He bristled when a rough tongue ran over his hand. Dust snatched the limb back as if he had stuck it on a hot stove. Bright gold magic shimmered across his phalanges. Warmth ran through him as the cut closed and the bone fused back together. If he hadn’t felt it himself, he wouldn’t have been able to tell the injury had ever been there to begin with. There wasn’t even a scar.

Dream mewed. He looked way too proud of himself.

“I’m not thanking you if that’s what you’re waiting for,” Dust said. 

Dream shook himself. His body flickered for a moment. 

Had he imagined that? 

One of the other’s nails blinked out in a buzz of static.

No. Not his imagination. Dust looked over Dream’s body. Nothing else was wrong. Just a missing claw. Surely, the great and powerful master of all good emotions wouldn’t cry over that. 

“Don’t use your magic again.”

He scooped up the bag and marched back to his room. The cat bounced after, mind numbingly cheerful as always. 

\-----

Dust lifted a bottle from his workbench. A thin blue concoction swished around the inside. Moonlight gleamed across the surface.

Was this the right consistency for the ingredient he lost? 

He glanced over his notes on the first transformation potion to check how many days he would need to let this component sit for before it would be usable, frowning at the smudged handwriting and scrawled out corrections. He really needed to keep better records. If he wanted to change Dream back, he couldn’t afford to get this wrong. What would the gang say if he accidentally turned him into a sabre-toothed tiger? Being eaten by an extinct feline or telling Nightmare why his brother was one. Tough choice. 

Dream jumped onto his lap, almost sending Dust toppling backward again. The cat yawned at him and curled up. It rubbed its head into his stomach.

No. Not a chance.

He pushed Dream onto the floor. The puff ball shook himself and mewed again. Dust tried not to look at him. Back to work. Which bottle was next? Dream mewed louder.

Oh for- what did he want now? 

The sound cut off as Dust moved the vial in his grasp. He turned to check on the ex-guardian.  
Dream’s body tensed. Eyes locked on a spot of light on the carpet an inch away from him. Dust tilted his skull and lifted the vial again. The dot of moonlight reflecting off the glass moved. 

Dream’s eyes followed. So that was it. 

He held his hand over the light on the vial as Dream leapt. The cat’s eyes widened as he opened his paws to find nothing. He squeaked, darting around the room, leaping onto piles of books, charging at the shadows under the bed before changing direction at the last moment. All in a frenzied hunt for his new toy. 

Dust smirked at the show. He let the little thing search for a while before letting the dot return. Dream’s head popped out from behind the laundry basket. He gave out a battle mew and scrambled after it onto the top of the bedsheets. The dot hovered on the pillows. Dream crouched; his eyes sparkled with a determination to catch it this time. Unfortunately, the daft animal hadn’t accounted for physics. Rather than catching his prey, he overshot the jump and rolled head over heels off the bed. Dream landed on the carpet with a gentle thump, stood up and staggered in a dizzy circle. 

That’d teach him. Now, where was he?

Dust gagged as something dived into his lowered hood, jerking the collar back into his throat. He wrenched the fabric forward until it wasn’t cutting off his air supply. Dust shifted his shoulders, trying to dislodge the cat from his clothing. When it didn't work he huffed and pulled a notebook towards himself. 

At least Dream wasn’t causing trouble anymore and he didn’t have to look at him back there. He picked up a pen and wrote down a list of measurements. 

Dream sat up straight, his back brushing against Dust’s skull as he enjoyed his look out spot.

\-----

Killer and Stretch looked up from their card game as Dust strode into the living room. Both grinned. He ignored them and headed towards the kitchen for a snack.

“Hey, have you grown a second head?” Stretch asked.

“Shut up,” Dust snapped.


	3. Naps and Nightshade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dust wants to rest. Dream wants to join.

Dust lazed against the worn couch cushions. His joints ached from cleaning the castle windows. Sure, he couldn’t work on the potion without that missing bottle but, cleaning windows? Why did this place need so many anyway? They didn’t even use half the rooms they were attached to. Well, he used some of them for his experiments but, not being able to see into those was a good thing. He stretched his limbs out and closed his eyes.

Light footsteps approached. 

Dust scrunched his eyes shut tighter. If anyone thought they were interrupting his nap they could go do something very unpleasant to themselves with a sharp knife. Or he could do it for them. Their choice. 

Plush fur brushed against his hand as something clambered onto the cushions beside him. Dream padded across Dust’s chest, squirming and sniffing at him.

He was not getting up. 

A wet, rough tongue licked his cheekbone.

Dust inched his body back against the arm rest. He was not getting up and this kitten couldn’t make him. He was in charge around here, not this damn ex-guardian.

Dream sat on his face. 

Pride wasn’t worth suffocation. Gasping, Dust shoved the crazy fluff ball off his mouth and glared at him. If everything else didn’t prove Dream was plotting to kill him this was pretty damning evidence. Were all cats like this? How did their owners survive the night? 

“Down,” he said.

Disregarding the ‘I will end you and everything you love’ tone, Dream bumped Dust’s nose with his paw and backed under his hoodie until only his head and a lump in the fabric remained of the tiny thing. It jiggled teasingly.

Ok. The game was over. He only wanted to sleep for a while. This cat needed to get out of his clothes and push the hell off right now. It would be easy, pick him up, put him outside the room. Felines couldn’t open doors…as far as he knew. Yet, that meant getting up, admitting Dream won this round. Not an option.

Dust shook his body, hoping to spook the kitten and send him running. He ground his teeth as claws dug into him. Dream scrunched himself deeper into the hoodie. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Dust thrust his hands under the material and grabbed the cat around the waist, holding it for a second before it squirmed out and darted for his shirt collar.

Killer chose that moment to nudge the door open and find Dust with his skull halfway stuck into his top, trying to prevent a kitten from tangling itself in his ribcage and batting his glowing soul like a toy. Not an easy task when his opponent was covered in smooth fur with the flexibility of an Olympic gymnast. With an excited squeak Dream lunged forward, yanking Dust further in. He didn’t know which was worse, Killer seeing him like this or the fact that his grip was slipping. 

Killer ran his sockets over Dust, opened his mouth, then must’ve decided whatever this madness was, it wasn’t part of his job description right now. Documents rustled in his arms.

“Did you finish cleaning the windows?” he asked. 

“Yep,” Dust said. He regained his grasp on Dream and pulled him out with a triumphant smile. Victory! Relaxation! Rest!

“Good, you can help me with this paperwork.”

Rats.

“I’d love to,” Dust replied. “But I can’t.” He lowered Dream back onto his chest and let him curl into a furry ball under his hoodie again. “I have to look after the kitten, remember.”

Killer held a sadistically thick stack of papers out. “You can move him.”

As if on cue, Dream blinked lazily and snuggled into his newfound napping spot. The sight would’ve given any cold-blooded murderer an identity crisis. Not him obviously. That stuff wouldn’t work on him, maybe Blue could manage it. But not the hopeless guardian of positivity. 

That didn’t mean Killer was immune, if that blush was anything to go by.

Dust grinned. “I’ll take pictures of him sleeping for you.” 

He was met with a scowl. “You can’t bribe me with cute photos.”

“Video too…and I bet you can think of a few toys you’d like to see him playing with.”

Killer scribbled a few demands and left.

The cushions were wonderfully soft as Dust sagged into them. Finally. 

Dream crawled towards him and rubbed his head against his chin. 

Wait…maybe he hadn’t thought this through. Now he was trapped under a kitten. Said kitten purred. Vibrations tickled Dust’s skull.

Better than paperwork. He’d let Dream have this one. There’d be other battles. 

Back to sleep.

\-----

Dust strode outside with Dream darting around his heels.

As soon as they entered the garden the kitten darted into a bed of silver flowers, pollen puffed from the blooms in his wake. Dust set up his tools. Plants here were divided into two groups, his and Horror’s. Or, as the other’s sometimes put it edible and ‘not even if you paid me.’

Horror’s plants swayed in the breeze; their scents hung above the garden. Sweet mint, earthy basil, rich tarragon. The herbs and spices were fresh and vibrant, their taste in the gang’s meals were a testament to that. 

His garden on the other hand was much more fitting for the lair of the supposed villains of the multiverse. Vines squirmed in his grasp. The magical blossoms hissed at him or chirped as he plucked the components he needed for his potions. He could steal ingredients of course, but sometimes it was just easier to have them at his fingertips. Besides, a fire spitting buttercup or an extra-large, man eating Venus flytrap were always useful, especially if you could hide them where no one was expecting it. 

In the middle of Horror’s tea garden Dream scampered in circles. Dirt flew behind him as he raced to sniff, peer at and nuzzle everything he found even vaguely interesting. At last, he stopped and pawed at a golden flower, as if he expected it to move if only he poked it long enough. Daft animal. 

Dream opened his mouth and meowed at the bloom.

_Meow!_

The kitten shot up in the air and scurried backwards when the plant answered him. Dust smirked. No one expected golden flowers to talk back. They were for tea and looking nice. That’s what made the ones from Underswap so entertaining, barely distinguishable from their classic non-echoing counterparts. He still occasionally taught a few to swear and hid them in Asgore’s yard. He even had a few ready for the next royal garden party. Now _that_ would be memorable.

Dream edged back towards the plant. He squeaked at it…and it answered again. His ears perked up.

“Meow!”

_Meow!_

“Meow, Meow, Meow!”

_Meow, Meow, Meow!_

Dust rolled his eyes while the other bounced around the flower. Trust Dream to make friends with anything, even a mindless plant that only parroted back to you. He turned his attention to his deadly nightshade. The violet blooms wilted on their stems; brown leaves hung around them. It hadn’t been doing well for the last week and those would only sap the living section of the plant. 

His femur nudged the hard metal of a pair of clippers. Had those been there a second ago?

With a glance around himself he trimmed the plant until only vibrant green remained. Okay now. Dust almost jumped back when a plastic watering can slid towards him by itself. No, not by itself. A pair of pointed ears peeked out from behind it, their owner shoving the tool with his forehead. 

At least the other was being useful rather than playing with the foliage. Dust took the container and showered his nightshade. It would be okay, it would be healthy again soon if he just gave it the care, fresh air and fertilizer it needed. 

Dream screeched.

The watering can went flying, icy content hitting Dust full in the face as his hands jolted at the noise.

“What the hell?!” he asked. Another stupid cat instinct?

The other stuck out a lip at him and whipped his tail at the plant. A pool of unabsorbed fluids submerged the stem.

“Too much water?”

Dream’s chest puffed out.

Right, this one had a tree for a mother and spent his early childhood in a garden of an AU. Of course, he’d have a natural green thumb. Dust always thought the flowers Blue found for him were foraged from different worlds. But he had mentioned a few were given to him by a friend. No wonder he had been cagy when anyone tried to press that issue. How much of his garden was a gift from Dream? 

Dust shook his skull. “What fertiliser?” 

Dream perked up. He bolted at the pile of sample size bags and pawed at a brand labelled organic mulch. Great, he got that wrong too. No wonder the plant Gods hated him. He shovelled a few clumps of the drowned soil aside and replaced it with the musty compost. Hopefully, that would help fix the mess he made.

A soft head nudged his side. Dust’s hand reached out subconsciously before he could snatch it back. 

They better get inside and put away these ingredients. He could always try to ask Dream about his other plants later.


	4. Cooking with Spiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cross and Dust try cooking for Dream, but a tiny visitor shows up.

Dust slammed the fifth cupboard. There wasn’t a bite of cat food in the whole kitchen. He should’ve picked some up sooner. Well, there were other ingredients and cooking tools, many tools. 

Cross tickled Dream under the chin. The kitten purred but wrinkled his nose and edged away as the skeleton held a chocolate ice cream cone towards him. Dust snatched it before it got any closer.

“Awww,” Cross said.

Dust held the dessert out of the other’s reach, pushing him back with his free hand. “Ice cream is bad for cats and I’d like to keep all my limbs you dummy.”

The black and white skeleton stuck his lower jaw out. “But, Oliver and Company- “

“What did I tell you about Disney films?”

Cross’ body sagged. “That they aren’t an authentic representation of our reality and I shouldn’t expect a company with a talking mouse as a mascot to major in realism.”

“Correct,” Dust said. He tapped his phalanges against his skull. Cross was so sweetly naïve. The other may claim he wasn’t a kid but, he got way too excited over things like pixie dust, mermaids and pirates. Sure they existed somewhere in the multiverse, but it didn’t matter who you were, there was always something deeply traumatising about a skeleton falling from the sky demanding a sword fight and a means of flight fuelled by fluffy feelings. Poor Undersail.

As he was explaining the benefits of research to Cross, Horror walked in. His eye light rolled over Dream for a moment before settling on Dust. 

Horror pulled an axe on him. “Hands in the air and step away from the stove slowly. Who let you in here unsupervised anyway?” 

Nice to know his presence rated as more important than primal instinct. He felt so loved.

“I’m not unsupervised,” Dust gathered some ingredients and placed them by the blender. “Right?”

Neither Cross nor Dream answered him. Both stared into the corner of the room where a tiny spider stared back. Cross smiled at the insect. Dream sniffed it.  
Horror raised his axe.

Dust opened the kitchen door and shooed the spider out while Cross seized the weapon, fighting to keep his teammate from killing the ‘innocent creature’ who didn’t do anything wrong. Other than being an unwelcome presence in an arachnophobe’s safe space and maybe being a bit of a health risk. 

Dream slipped between his legs and charged at the spider. His movements showed grace as he bounded after it. However, his prey soon disappeared into the grass, easily out running him.

Dream paced. His ears pricked forward as he spotted a ladybird and flew towards it. Once again, the insect panicked and fled into the sky while Dream leapt at it, mewing loudly.

This was painful. In an open area with no cover Dust was guilty of the same tactic. His back ached at the memory. But he may as well let the kitten tire himself out.

Dream looked around. There was nothing left to chase. Well, mission failed. Maybe they could go inside now. However, rather than bouncing for the kitchen Dream lay on the grass. His ears drooped; tail curled around himself. What was he doing? It was just a bit of fun. What did it matter if he couldn’t catch a bug? No one was good at everything. 

“Let’s go back inside. It’s gone.”

Dream jumped and turned away from him, burying his head in the ground. Was he trying to hide his expression? Dust had seen people disappointed before. It came with the territory. Everyone had problems around here and everyone had gone through plenty to learn how to deal with them. Funny to see that even when it was this mild Dream could feel something beyond pure enthusiasm. Then again, had he ever seen Dream when he wasn’t in hero of the multiverse mode? 

The other squirmed and dug his face deeper into the earth. 

“Come on, you don’t need to do that.” Dust crouched next to him. “If you want to calm down you’ll need to lift your face out so you can breathe, try to focus on the feel of the grass rather than the stupid bugs.” 

Dream didn’t turn, but he did raise his head.

“Inhale.” 

Dream did so, Dust counted to four. “Hold it.”

The other’s body stilled. After a few seconds, his face relaxed.

Dust smiled. “Okay, let it out gently for three seconds.”

Air whistled through Dream’s teeth. He stood straight and gave a gloomy glance to Dust, then back at the garden. 

He didn’t need Dream to start sulking again after he just got him out of it. Besides, this was more his style anyway. A squeak escaped Dream as Dust picked him up around the waist and dropped him behind a bush, lying beside him. The kitten’s ears twitched but, he settled and waited. Soon, a spider crept out of the grass. Maybe the same one from before? All spiders seemed alike to him. 

Dream’s fur stood up. Dust placed a hand on his back and gave him a look. The other shuffled but he settled down.

The spider edged closer. Dream’s body angled towards it. Dust didn’t move his hand. 

The spider came closer. It placed a leg onto a leaf in front of the bush. Dream lowered; his rear twitched. 

Dust grinned and released him. Leaves parted as the kitten exploded through them. The spider skittered back before being trapped under his paws. Dream widened his eyes at it before his expression broke into a proud smile. 

“Hey! You found it,” Cross said. He and Horror strode towards them. 

The disappointed frown on Horror’s skull made it obvious who won the morality debate. “Are you releasing it into the wild?”

Yeah, that would be the right thing to do. They’d only caught it for fun after all. He turned to Dream. The kitten wiggled and nudged his catch towards him. Dust pulled a face at it. He didn’t have the same distaste for insects that Horror did but, anything with that many legs and eyes made his bones crawl. It tried to make a break for it. A quick bat from Dream’s paw kept it down.

Dust shook his skull. “No, thanks.”

Dream’s eyes sparkled. Crunching noises followed as he snapped up his prey and munched it like a hazelnut.

Yuk. He didn’t need to see that.

Cross gasped. 

Horror nudged the smaller skeleton. “Don’t worry, it’s the circle of life. Fruit gets eaten by fly, fly gets eaten by spider, spider gets eaten by the guardian of all positivity. Isn’t it magical?”

Cross’ expression of pure shock didn’t change.

Dream licked his lips and strutted back towards the castle, completely content with having eaten something alive. Dust hid a smile behind his hand as Cross lectured Horror on mercy towards insects, clearly forgetting who the hell he was talking to.

Life was full of surprises sometimes.

\-----

“Okay, it’s ready! And the kitchen’s still standing,” Dust said. 

He held up a jug of blended mush. A blob of the same cold sludge dropped from the ceiling onto his hoodie. Mental note, lids were not optional.

Cross clapped from his seat at the table. 

Dust shot a smug sideways glance at Horror. 

“Don’t bother.” The other skeleton pointed a spatula at him. “I won’t thank you for not destroying the castle. It’d only give you ideas.”

Ideas? Like what? A contest to see how much damage he could cause in an hour. How little did people think of him around here? He’d need high end explosives for that, not a blender.

He poured a quarter of his mix into a bowl and placed it on the floor in front of Dream. Meanwhile, Horror finished his own dish. He emptied the frying pan’s contents onto a plate, stepping back. A rich sweet scent of chicken and caramelised brown sugar swirled around them, meat still sizzling from the oil. 

Dust gave his own work a long stare. The colourless, watery blob bubbled. It let out a thin fishy aroma. He crossed his arms, squaring up to Horror. Taste was more important than looks anyway. Besides, they weren’t the judges, and the other hadn’t seen the hesitant look Dream had given to Cross’ high calorie ice cream cone.

Dream poked his head into the bowl, then the plate and back again. Eventually, he tucked his legs under his body in front of the bowl and ate, wolfing down mouthfuls of the mush. It stuck to his mouth in a messy ring. Dream licked at it and kept eating.

“The cat has good taste,” Dust said.

“The cat just ate a spider alive,” Horror responded. He scooped up the jug and drank a drop. A scrunched expression filled his features. Cross likewise took the offered meal and tried it. He turned green before darting for the sink.

Was it so unbelievable that he’d finally beaten Horror at his own game that they had to act like this?! Couldn’t they just admit he’d won rather than behaving like children?!

Dust snatched his creation out of Cross’ hand and chugged it. Instant regret followed. The blend stuck to the roof of his mouth in a thick gooey paste. A sharp tart flavour mixed unnaturally with a bitter tang pierced his tongue. It was as if someone introduced concentrated vinegar to black coffee then ran for cover as the pair made this evil offspring.

He used tuna, blueberries and water. This foul taste wasn’t scientifically possible. Dust would’ve been amazed if he could think of much besides the need to bleach his mouth. Poisoning be damned.

As an act of mercy, he reached out and pulled the dish away from Dream. Even he didn’t deserve this. Dream squeaked. He placed a paw on the bowl and pulled it back, giving him a smile.

The cat was crazy. He didn’t need to eat that disgusting stuff to make him feel better. It was bad. Really bad. Dream ate until the bowl was clean. He lay in front of Dust and stared at him.

Dust sighed and petted him behind the ears, letting the warm fur tickle his phalanges.

Completely. Utterly. Crazy.


	5. Night Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are few things more confusing than waking up to a kitten stealing your sock.

His foot itched. Dust cracked open an eye socket to see Dream at the end of his bed, yanking on his sock. He tugged the covers over his skull and moaned. Letting the other nap in the middle of the day so much was a bad idea. Did the title ‘guardian of positivity and light’ mean nothing? Wasn’t it meant to cancel out things like nocturnal instincts? Clearly not. The sock popped off and Dream disappeared across the moonlit room with it clutched in his mouth. Claws scratched at the carpet. 

“Go to sleep,” Dust said. 

Mews filled the air, the scraping noises became more frantic. 

Fine. If it would calm him down, fine. 

Dust crawled out of bed, flicking the light switch. He was met with the sight of Dream sitting proudly in front of him surrounded by an overflowing laundry basket and crumpled balls of clothes. Dusty slippers, bloody shirts, chocolate stained hoodies all littered his floor. Then the smell struck him. A sweaty, metallic scent which turned his stomach. How the hell had the other carried all this dirty laundry in here without getting sick? How long did this take?

Dream gripped the basket’s handle between his teeth. His legs slid under him as he attempted to drag it towards the door. The look of determination to move something which towered over him was almost cute, especially the way his ears stood up in concentration and fluttered when he tugged. However, it was a losing battle. Dream barely moved it at all, tripping twice before he took five steps. Despite everything, tiny kittens couldn't move something at least ten times heavier than themselves. Physics were cruel like that. A tooth creaked.

Enough. Dust scooped up the container, stepping back as the other jumped at him. “You want to wash these, right? Lets get going before anyone wakes up.”  
And hope he didn’t flood the castle doing it. 

Luckily, no one was in the kitchen. So, no one saw him loading the washing machine while Dream nipped at him every time he tried to mix colours or use a full bottle of fabric softener. Why were there so many rules? He should give Horror more credit for remembering everything that went into this. He shut the door and turned the machine on. It hummed as he leaned against it, vibrations massaged his spine. He closed his eyes. 

Clattering nearby woke him a second later. Dream padded through a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Knives poked out between the plates an inch from his next step. Dust snatched him up and held him away. He forgot, this cat had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. “You don’t need to do all the chores. You’re supposed to be a guest.”

Dream squirmed in his grasp. Body stretched out towards the stack. There was a look of pure resolve in his eyes, the same expression as before and the same one he wore when hunting or trying to get others to play with him. There was no winning against that look. He’d tried. Even if he took Dream to the other end of the castle, no doubt the crazy thing would just come racing back, full of cheer and ready to have another go. He didn’t quite get the appeal of household tasks, but it was admirable in its own way. How dedicated Dream was to helping others. 

Was he always like this? Those shadows under his sockets on the dock were starting to make more sense. He shouldn’t have insulted him, or maybe not jumped to conclusions about him not taking things seriously. The way he mewed, it was like nothing in the world was more serious than those dishes and removing every spot from them, making those who used them happy. He didn’t get it and at the same time he did. Positive idiot.

Dust rolled up his sleeves and turned on the tap. Dream couldn’t do it alone, not as a kitten. A golden paw batted at the water. 

“It’s okay.” He placed Dream on the floor. “I’ll do this, you go back to sleep.”

The cat ran for the broom closet.

Dust sighed. This could take a while.

Hours later, the kitchen sparkled. A pile of freshly washed and dried clothes decorated the table, clean dishes stood by the sink and the floor was spotless. Dust sniggered as he sagged into a chair. No one would believe he was behind this. They’d sooner accept the idea that a burglar had broken in and been horrified enough by the mess to do something about it. Or that the castle was haunted by a particularly hygienic ghost. He couldn’t wait to see their faces.

Dream staggered across the tiles towards the feather duster by the fridge. His eyes drooped. 

Dust scooped him up. The conflict between snuggling into his pyjama top or making a break for the duster was written all over the kitten’s face. Dust carried him back to his room before the later could win. He needed something to help a cat sleep or he’d never get any rest tonight. A search of the area brought up a tiny cardboard box with flaps to keep light out and give the occupant some privacy. Plus, if it were slot in the corner, he wouldn’t trip over it. He lined it with a cushion to make it more comfortable. Dream fit snuggly inside. His body filled the space as if it were made for him. Seconds became minutes while Dust rubbed his back, helping him drift off. 

\-----

Dust’s joints unclenched as he tossed the sheets back and stretched. He switched off his alarm before it could go off and startle Dream. The kitten hadn’t made a sound since he got him to sleep in his new bed. No point disturbing that. 

However, Cross would sulk at him all morning if he couldn’t sneak Dream cereal under the table while Nightmare’s back was turned. Typical. But he had given up trying to stop it after seeing the look of joy on the pair’s faces. If Dream could handle his cooking, he probably wouldn’t dust from a few artificially flavoured cornflakes.

“Wake up Dream,” Dust said.

Tapping the box didn’t result in any movement or noise from within. 

He opened the cardboard flaps. “Come on, you’re missing cornflakes.”

Dream lay frozen. His body trembled; eyes darting in every direction. Was he hungry? Sick? Dust wasn't a vet, but common sense screamed cats shouldn't look that pale. Please don't be ill. What could he do if he was? The multiverse may be big, but where were you meant to take magically transformed skeletons? He doubted that was covered in medical school. Maybe he would be okay. He needed to check. Dust lifted Dream up, pressing a hand against his forehead. The little kitten’s heartbeat raced. 

“Hey calm down,” Dust said. “You’ll feel better after breakfast.” He reached for Dream’s ears. 

Pain stabbed his hand as tiny teeth sunk into it. Dream kicked himself out of Dust’s hold and bolted for the far wall, putting as much distance between the two of them as possible. His back arched.

What was he doing? Did he not sleep well? A night terror? Maybe he was confused and thought he was still in a dream.

Dust crept closer. “It’s just me.” 

A low growl came from the kitten’s throat. His fur bristled. 

This might help. Dust slid open a drawer and pulled out a packet of dried fish. He’d kept these with him lately, just in case. He held out one and edged forward.

Glitches flashed across Dream’s fur, body flickering as he backed into the wall. Dust stopped. 

The pixels morphed into blue spikes sprouting from his spine as if he were a new type of porcupine, sharp, pointed directly at Dust. Dream hissed. 

Dust's legs responded while his mind was still trying to process what the heck was going on. The bed frame offered the quickest source of cover and his body slammed into it with all the grace of an elephant. He tumbled over the mattress, used blue magic to flip it onto it's side and yanked it up to shield himself half a second before a storm of quills ripped into the other side. It shook. The sounds of torn fabric and shattering resounded around the room as the attacks stripped away at his barrier or misfired into the empty vials on his shelves. 

He braked his hands against the mattress and told himself it had to stop soon. Dream wasn't used to this type of magic. Not in that form. He couldn't control it long. It would stop. It would stop soon. Then he could figure this madness out. There had to be a reason for this. Any reason.

When the shooting finally died down Dust poked his skull over the shredded remains of what used to be his bed. Dream stood panting, he glitched again. His whiskers blinked out before he dived out the open door and disappeared down the hallway. 

Dust booted aside the ruined furniture and gave chase.

\-----

“What’s wrong with him!” Dust asked. 

He took another bite of chocolate and hurled the wrapper at the trash can. Cross wouldn’t like that he had eaten his stash. Horror really wouldn’t like the mass of wrappers on his kitchen floor.

Fuck them! Dream wouldn’t come near him! Every time he tried to get close the cat would bolt for the nearest exit or snarl at him until he left the room. Dream was the guardian of positivity! He wasn’t supposed to snarl. Even destroying a doomed AU in front of him never broke that hopeful, caring disposition of his. What was his problem?! 

Stretch leaned back in his chair as Dust chugged the cola in his other hand and crushed the can with a single strike. 

“Tell me what to do!” Dust ordered.

Stretch crossed his arms and gave him a look. “I thought you didn’t like him?”

“I don’t! But when someone bites me, I want to know the fucking reason why!”

If Dream had been playing with him this entire time, he would kill him. Fuck Nightmare. Fuck Blue. Fuck everything. Sure, he hadn’t been happy when he was given the crazy guardian to look after. He never even expected or wanted a kitten to begin with, especially one with Dream’s cheer and bottomless determination for reaching out to anyone.  


Even those who didn’t deserve it.

His body sagged. He tossed the can onto the floor.

He had tried. He had tried to make Dream comfortable here and look after him. He had tried to find a way to make this insane situation work. But none of that mattered did it? He always screwed up somehow. 

“What happened, before he bit you?” Stretch asked. 

Dust lay back and explained his interactions with Dream over the last few days. The other skeleton listened attentively, laughing along with Dust over some of the stupid things the kitten had done or smiling at his impressions of the other gang members.

“Did he really drop a pile of books on you?” Stretch asked.

“He dropped the entire wall on me.”

Stretch pushed his own cola aside, tilting forward. “And then?”

His expression stayed neutral as Dust recounted when Dream was having trouble sleeping. However, he twitched as he listened to the description of the cardboard box bed. The Papyrus reached out and took the third can of caffeinated soda from Dust’s grasp. 

He stood, wandered towards the kettle and clicked it on. “How much do you know about Dream’s past.”

Dust pulled two mugs from the cabinet, waving a hand at him. “Lived with Nightmare. Nightmare got corrupted. Big fight. Got turned to stone. Turned back. The rest is cruel, stupid history.”

He reached for the coffee jar but, Stretch passed him a chamomile teabag instead. Rolling the squishy sack in his hand hesitantly, Dust took it. Steam whistled from the kettle. At least he still understood how some things worked around here. He picked it up and poured.

Stretch turned. “When Dream was stone. Did you know he was conscious the whole time?”

Hot water scalded Dust’s bones as his grip slipped. Stretch lifted the kettle from his hands and guided him towards the sink. Cool liquid washed over the burn but, Dust didn’t make any effort to assist with cleaning it. 

Conscious? As in, stuck in the dark, by himself. Nothing ever changing. Trapped in an endless cycle of hoping for something to happen, something that would make it all better. At the same time, knowing that it wouldn’t. That tomorrow would just bring the same old fear and loneliness as today. That there was nothing to be done about it except wait. For how long? Years, decades, centuries? 

Dust took a bandage from Stretch and bound it around his hand in a swift, harsh movement. 

It was Dream. The protector of positivity and light he had to remember that. The perfect one everyone loved. He shouldn’t feel bad for him.

Not being able to move forward. Not being able to do anything. Helpless. Scared. Alone. Didn’t he understand that? Wasn't that his own whole damned existence before Nightmare came along and yanked him out of that hell loop in his old AU? 

The chair clattered against his spine as he dropped back into it. Stretch placed a mug of tea in front of him. Dust’s phalanges dug into the handle.

He had fought Dream more times than he could count. Even if he wasn’t exactly as unfocused as he thought, the guardian still didn’t understand anything about him. 

How much did he know about Dream? Had he tried to find anything out from Blue or Nightmare when he was put in charge of him? He had put Dream in a box. A cramped box without any windows.

He could’ve gotten himself out.

He was a tiny kitten, who had woken up to find himself right back in the dark.

Dust slammed his hands into the table. The drink wobbled. “Has Blue told Nightmare?”

Stretch shook his skull. “And I don’t suggest you do. He feels bad enough about...that.”

Dust sank back into his seat. Hot honeyed tea flowed down his throat. His body unclenched as it warmed his bones. He needed that, but it didn't solve anything. “What do I do?” 

“My advice?” Stretch took a long sip of his own tea and gave a knowing smile. “Ignore him. Turn him back once you have all the ingredients you need. He won’t remember anything except vague feelings and a few lingering instincts once he’s normal again so tell me. Why does it matter?” 

It didn’t. It shouldn’t. 

But how could the other keep smiling after what he had been through?

And how could he get it back?


	6. Let’s Start Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dust tries to make things right

The back of the couch pressed against his chest. Dust edged his skull round the side. In the centre of the living room sat a clay pot with a catnip plant. Spiky heart shaped leaves billowed in a draft from the open window. From this distance he couldn’t smell it himself but, the book he borrowed from Nightmare’s collection assured him that a cat’s nose was better than his anyway. It wasn’t the best plan. Yet, he wanted to try.

The door creaked. A golden ear appeared on the other side of the thin gap. Dream pawed at the slit, shoving it inwards. He squeezed his form into the opening and popped through with a cheerful meow.

Dust slowed his breathing, taking longer breaths to calm himself.

Dream crept towards the plant. He closed his eyes and rubbed his head against it, nipping at the stem. 

Dust edged out into the open, behind the little cat.

A deep purr rumbled from Dream. His pink tongue licked at the catnip’s purple flower buds.

“Gotcha!” 

Dream squeaked as Dust scooped him into his arms, holding him close against his chest. Claws swiped at his cheeks and slashed into his shoulder. 

Dust held him tighter. “It’s okay, just calm down.”

He was met with panicked yowls. Dream thrashed harder. His teeth sunk into every part of Dust’s body he could reach. The cuts stung. However, Dust kept talking to him as he lumbered down the hallway. “I’m not trying to hurt you. Not right now. So, stop biting me!”

He may as well have been talking to a brick. Dream hissed. His body vibrated furiously, static buzzing from his fur. Dust bit his lip as the same blue spikes from before jabbed at his ribs. Tears leaked from Dream’s eyes. 

Dust booted open the door to his room and dropped the cat on the carpet. Dream rolled once then bounced to his feet. He lowered his body, glaring.

“Turn around.” Dust gestured. 

Dream’s ears twitched. Whether he understood or was only following the movement was unclear. Yet, he turned.

Light filled the area around the bed. Due to the chemicals in his room candles were out of the question. However, the glow from a string of lights draped across the window and ceiling lit up the room like an army of fireflies. Dream padded towards the bed. A thick folded blanket decorated the end. Warm and fluffy with the fresh scent of rose fabric softener. 

All the weapons had disappeared from the walls. Sacrificed to Blue’s heavily locked up safety mountain. He could manage with just magic for a while. No big deal. The final touch were the new friends sitting around the area. When Dust told him what he was doing Cross had been happy to give him a few dolls. 

Dream pounced on the Nightmare plush, tangling himself in the fabric tentacles and nuzzling the button features. 

“Do you like it?” Dust asked.

A stern expression crossed Dream’s face. He swished his tail at him.

He deserved that. Even if he didn’t understand, he hadn’t meant to upset the other. But what had he meant? Just to keep him quiet? No, he had meant-

Never mind. That wasn’t the point.

Dust shuffled his feet, keeping his distance. “I wanted to apologise. Or try to. I’m not used to being responsible for keeping other things alive. Except my brother and that-Shit. I didn’t know about, well. I’m trying to- “

Oh hell, when was the last time he apologised for anything? Sincerely, at least. It felt like forever.

Dream’s ears pricked up. His whiskers twitched.

Dust took a breath. “It’s brighter in here now. I’ll keep the windows and door open and you’ll have these dolls to keep you company at night. You can sleep on my bed. Just don’t try to suffocate me again. Okay.”

Was that enough? He should keep away to give the other time. Did Dream understand him? Dust’s hand closed around the doorknob, gripping it maybe a little harder than was necessary. He would come back later.

Gold flashed in the corner of his vision. He stumbled forward as a weight leapt onto his back and clambered into his hood. A prickle crossed his shoulders when Dream kneaded him with his claws.

“Ouch, is this a punishment?” 

Dream head butted him. 

How had this become his life? Dust reached behind him and ran his phalanges through the other’s silky fur. He sat at his workbench while Dream fell asleep against the back of his skull.

\-----

Dust sat on his bed, skull buried in a notebook, looking for all the world like he hadn’t noticed a kitten sneaking towards him from across the sheets. 

As Dream dove for his hood, he flung his body backwards. Fur brushed pass his nose, tumbling across the floor in a puffy ball. Dust leaned forward, legs crossed, eye lights sparkling at the little cat. “You’ll have to do better than that. Stop attacking from the right.”

Dream picked himself off the carpet and charged again. 

Dust swung his legs upwards. Claws scrambled to stop the charge but, Dream still ended up flying under Dust’s ankles face first into the laundry basket. He squirmed under a sheet like a tiny ghost.

“And stop going for my feet when you don’t get your way.”

The material flattened when Dream popped out from under it. If cats could pout, this one did. He flicked his tail in Dust’s direction before wandering off to pester something else.   
Good luck, the room had been thoroughly guardian proofed. The best he could hope to find to cause trouble with was a sock or non-explosive cat toys. Either Dream quickly discovered this or wasn’t amused with his attempts to appease him with squeaky mice. He sat by Dust’s feet and gave him a hard look of stern disapproval.

Yikes, so that was where Nightmare learnt that. Never thought he’d feel bad for Ink.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ball of wool. Dream’s ears shot up.

“Is this an acceptable offering your highness?” Dust asked. 

He chuckled and lifted the gift up as the other jumped at it. Cute but, lacking any poker face whatsoever. Dream rubbed against his leg and meowed, eyes wide. Dust sucked in a breath. Okay, he was wrong, cuteness had its advantages too. Had Blue taught him that? He was supposed to be on their side.

The sphere unravelled as he lobbed it. Dream gave chase with enthusiasm, rolling along the floor and trailing strings. Dust set his notebook aside. He wandered to his dresser to collect his phone. Killer would love this, it might even get him out of more pencil pushing. He hit record and turned. 

Through the camera lens, the screen showed Dream entangled in teal strings from his gift. Paws kicked at the threads, he chomped at them and wiggled. Then gave Dust another pleading look.

For the love of, only Dream was daft enough to lose a fight to an unmade sweater. Still, his chest warmed as he propped the phone against a box, lifted the other up and unpicked the strings. He might keep this video for himself. 

Now, how was he supposed to undo this knot?

\-----

Wool bit into Dust’s phalanges. He shook them to get the stuff off. However, he only managed to undo the ball more and fling threads into the air around himself. 

Great. 

He inhaled a mouthful of carpet, rolled onto his back and made another attempt to break free from the threads which trapped his legs, arms and by that time, everything else. Using wool from the destroyer’s personal stash had been a bad idea. What was the stuff even made of? Steel? 

The deceptively soft strings tightened more as he struggled. Dream bit down on one and ground his teeth against it. If that technique worked, Horror would be a lot more feared in the multiverse. 

Dust risked another squeeze on his wrist to nudge the other away. He had managed to get him out of this mess and wasn’t interested in trying to free himself with a cat strapped to his skull. “Calm down, I’m not really trapped just a little stuck.”

Dream’s shook himself and darted around the room squeaking at him. He mewed at the strings. Then tackled the door, clawing at his barrier to finding assistance. 

“Someone will come soon,” Dust said. Hopefully, not Killer. He was the only one in the gang who would go for his phone before untying him. “I know you want to be more responsible than the twit tied up on the carpet but, I’m fine.”

Dream ran to him and lapped at his cheek. Dust shuffled away. He wasn’t hurt or scared. The other didn’t need to comfort him. He settled into the plush carpet to wait. Dream nudged his skull again. 

Dust sighed. For a guardian of positivity, Dream didn’t have much control over his emotions. Fretting wouldn’t help.

Static buzzed across the floor, forming a portal rimmed with fragments of Dream’s golden magic. Flickers of light sparked across the little cat’s fur. His eyes dimmed, they rolled back into his head and he fell forward into the hole without a sound. Dust paled.

Shit. Shit. _Shit!_

“Killer! Nightmare! I don’t care who! HELP!!!”

\-----

There was a crack in the ceiling. 

Blue ran into the living room, babbling incoherent pleas into his phone. Stretch’s voice buzzed from the device. It offered meaningless comfort and encouragement. Dust shifted to the right side of the rug so the other wouldn’t trip over him. He should be offering that comfort. But he couldn’t move. His body was heavy. He didn’t want to move. 

The crack shook. Nightmare must’ve broken something. His investigation was going nowhere. Everyone else was out searching. Stupid. How long would it take to search the entire multiverse manually? How many ways could a cat die in that time? Dream was helpless. He had made him that way and ignored all the evidence that his powers were destabilising. The only question now was what would come first, finding a pile of guardian dust, finding a glitched out mess or finding nothing at all.

His phone beeped. A tooth grinding synthetic voice gave him another ‘please leave a voicemail and I’ll get back to you when I damn well feel like it’ message.

“Answer your phone Error. We need your help,” he said into the device and hurled it away. 

An image of the anti-void filled his mind. Magic flowed along his phalanges. No portal. Damn the glitch and his locks.

He shouldn’t care. Dream was gone, no more fighting with him. But that wasn’t what he wanted was it? Not for a long time. He wasn’t sure when this had started or how the fuck he had gotten here. But he was going to get him back and kick the teeth in of anyone who got in his way. Strains of carpet tore apart as he clawed at it. Think! For once in his messed-up hell hole of a life. If the anti-void was closed off Error was in a seriously murderous mood or watching- 

The couch toppled when he tackled it, chasing his phone. He jabbed at the icons and thrust it against his face. There was someone in the multiverse who even Error’s security couldn’t keep out.

A hyper voice greeted him. He cut them off before they could try to engage him in any incomprehensible small talk.

“Listen, you multi-coloured idiot. We have a _shell_ of a problem and I need a massive _funking_ favour.”

\-----

Distant chatter and an occasional shout led Dust through the blankness of the anti-void. Normally, the white landscape would be unnerving but, if he focused on that for too long, he might lose his nerve. Just ignore the hanging souls of dead humans and the giggling whispers which he swore said his name at least once. Voices in your head were never a good sign. He should know and he wasn’t looking for any new residents. 

“Party of one. Full up, fuck off,” he muttered at a shriller cluster of gibbering. They tittered louder then faded.

The glitched yells grew closer as Dust moved onwards. Error stood on his blue beanbag with his back to him, flailing his arms at a small window to another AU. Beyond the portal, a well-dressed Sans and Toriel strolled through a cityscape together. Good thing they couldn’t hear Error. The questions, cheers and downright crazy demands he aimed at the pair would’ve killed anyone’s reputation. Destroyer of worlds or not. 

Dust always wondered why the other kept everyone out during Undernovela. Now it made sense. Any living creature seeing this wouldn’t be living for long. 

Error punched at the air, screaming more unreasonable orders. 

The best option for his continued survival would be to turn around, pretend he never saw this and leave.

Dust grabbed the bean bag, whipping it out from under the other’s feet. Error’s eyes widened before his face struck the floor with a crack. 

“Get up you lazy asshole! I’ve been calling for hours!” 

Dust shot backwards as strings from above snatched his limbs. He dangled upright in the air. Stretched out like a broken marionette. Error sat, pulling on the threads, causing them to tighten. Dust fought not to wince at the pressure crushing his wrists.

Attention obtained. That was the first step done.

Error curled and uncurled his fingers, guiding his threads towards Dust’s soul. 

“You haVe fiVe sEconds tO tell Me why You dId tHat,” he said.

Wow, five. He must’ve caught the other in a better mood than he expected. Lucky, lucky him. He tensed against an urge to struggle away from the sharpened string and smiled. “You won’t hurt me.”

“Oh? You thiNk yoU can Out fighT me?”

No. Never. That was suicide. He wasn’t putting Dream at risk like that. Dust flicked his chin towards the window to Undernovela. 

The view had shifted to a small park among the skyscrapers. Afternoon light danced off Torial’s white sundress as she laughed. Probably enjoying some pun about the flowers she was admiring. Or a bird if the flapping motions Sans was making were anything to go by. Everyone else kept their distance from the happy couple, letting them enjoy their moment.

Except one.

If Dust hadn’t been expecting it, hadn’t been gesturing at it, it would’ve been so easy to miss.

From behind a tree in the background Fresh waved. He stuck his tongue out and made a peace sign.

Error’s mouth fell open. If Dust wasn’t tied up with his soul in serious risk of getting a few new unwanted piercings, that expression might’ve been funny.

“I asked Fresh to troll your favourite AU if you dust me or don’t meet my demands,” he said.

“I coUld Kill yoU righT noW and Go get hiM.”

Dust choked as the strings clutched his soul. “Have you ever caught Fresh before?” 

“90s fashion randomly popping up in shops.” He continued. “hip-hop songs playing at dramatic moments, locals being taught slang. It may not catch on but, is it worth the risk?”

Static buzzed from Error. Dust’s skull floated, increased pressure in his chest squeezing the breath out of him. Pain crept from it to his jaw, arms and back. He forced the rest of his offer out before he could faint. “And yes, you could watch something else but, you’re invested in this show. So, deal?”

The squishy bean bag absorbed his impact when he was lobbed into it. Dust thrust his skull out of the material and panted in sweet, deep mouthfuls of oxygen. Error peered down at him. A razor thin cat’s cradle weaved between his phalanges. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Search the code for Dream. Then I’ll leave and call off the strike.” 

Glitches hummed around the other skeleton, blinking slowly. Error shrugged them off. A black drop-down panel flickered into existence over his right shoulder. Numbers, letters and strange symbols raced across it in a white stream. Dust’s skull throbbed looking at them. If the glitch understood any of it, he didn’t give any indication other than a sideways glance or a couple of nods. 

They stopped. 

“Don’T do AnythinG this StupiD eVer agAin,” Error said.

Dust balled his hands into fists to stop himself screaming. “Promise! Now, where is he?”

“ZoMbieTale.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This does not look good, and it was going so well too. So, Dust is Dream worth it? 
> 
> For anyone whose wondering, the potion was unstable. Dust never tested it properly and the glitching was Dream's magic not being able to cope. I wasn't sure if that was clear enough. 
> 
> Feel free to scream at me in the comments.


	7. Zombietale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, very mild cannibalism. I'll put a quick summary in the end notes just in case anyone really wants to avoid this.

Joking? Now?

Zombietale was a quarantined AU with a host of worse than deadly diseased occupants. It should’ve been demolished as a threat to the very existence of the multiverse, except no one wanted to go in there and actually do it. The locks weren’t an on off switch like the anti-void’s. It was the heavy duty ‘don’t you fucking dare’ equivalent of an electrified sixty-foot wall. 

But when Error put it up how was he supposed to account for guardians transformed into cats with broken magic?

“Open a portal,” Dust said.

The screen by Error blinked out. He thumped onto his beanbag. “BreaKing Your ProMise alrEady? Not eVen waitinG for Back Up?” 

Only if he wanted to doom them. Nightmare wouldn’t let anyone else risk themselves. He’d go after his brother himself. Alone. Although the dark skeleton claimed it was a shield, his sludge was still part of him, intimately connected to his body and soul. What protection could it offer against contagious magical diseases spread by bites? Nightmare was a physical fighter, relying more on his tentacles than magic. 

He’d die. Worse than die, and Dust couldn’t face that.

At least he stood a chance. This was his mess. His responsibility. His fault. No one was dusting for his mistakes. Including Dream. 

Error narrowed his eye lights at whatever he saw in the other’s expression. “I caN’t PinPoint DreaM eXactly Since his coDe’s a mEss. BuT I’ll Stay Here aNd pull You oUt wheN yoU finD him.”

Fine, the creation of a zombie who could break through those locks would be too dangerous to risk anyway. A white blocky window opened ahead. Dust strode forward, trying not to look directly into it until he could pass the threshold. 

“If yoU or DrEam geT bit yOu’re noT comiNg ouT. EveR. HealinG mAgic woN’t fiX thE hell In therE and I’m noT riSking The MultiVerse For eitHer Of yoU,” Error said. 

“Love you too glitchy.”

The portal snapped close. Dust was left in a living room if he could still call it that. Shredded paper scraps from a host of well-worn books littered the floorboards like ash. An armchair lay shattered in a heap across from an empty fireplace. Rot leaked from the walls in a dense stench. The only thing which appeared remotely reminiscent of the perhaps once homely place was a vase of flowers placed in the middle of a lightly chewed table. Their petals miraculously untouched but just as dead as everything else. 

This AU’s Toriel certainly had kept a lovely home.

He clicked his fingers, summoning a blaster with more bravado than he had any right to feel. Eventually, the adrenaline burning his marrow would run out. With any luck, not anytime soon and not when he needed it to avoid a set of teeth to the femur. Dust rummaged through his pockets. 

“I need you to track Dream.” There had to be something with the guardian’s scent in his pockets somewhere.

The skull darted forward, its skeletal snout prodding him all over. Scratches on his shorts, inside his hood, a good delve under his shirt. His blaster took long sweeping snorts wherever it could. Dust shoved it away with a grunt. “Enough. Get going.”

A playful bark was the other’s answer. It sailed through an open hole of a window and disappeared into the ruins, Dust close behind. 

Crimson leaves crunched underfoot as he flung himself onto the floating weapon. It shifted under his weight then charged. The firm bone spikes made comfortable handholds for the ride through the winding corridors. Silence occupied the first few rooms. It might have been possible to mistake them for the cavernous old brick halls. Decorated with stone tablets from a time no one remembered and overgrown vines no one really trimmed. If you could ignore the claw marks gouged into the marble pillars or the dried blood droplets soaked into the grass that was. Too bad he didn’t have that luxury. 

The sight around the next turn froze his marrow. A squirming hoard of monsters flung themselves at one of the ruin’s spike barricades. Pale flesh burst to powder as some impaled their souls. Others weren’t so lucky. Those who skewered their limbs on the spears flailed against their binds, paying no attention to the wet tearing sounds wrenched from their bodies. They moaned in hunger. Gaping mouths reached towards the terrified mewing cries beyond the barrier. Such a fragile block between them and food.

And it was creaking. 

“Hey!” Dust called. 

Ten sets of red eyes turned to him. A froggit screamed. The swarm charged in a flood of screeches, groans and bared teeth. Regardless of species, any predator would choose the path of least resistance to prey. Floating meals were infinitely preferable to those behind a pointy meat grinder. 

Simple creatures. Bone attacks cracked through the air, each aimed directly at a member of the mindless mass. How far gone were these things that they didn’t try to dodge or protect themselves as their forms were slashed to pieces? They all crumbled before getting within a foot of his blaster. Without getting a chance to so much as jump at him. Dust couldn’t decide if it was a relief or deeply sad. He pushed the sentiment away and urged the skull forward across the remains. 

The powder rustled. Pitch black souls sprouted from it, bleeding light and sludge. He should’ve run the second he saw the glow slither into a familiar set of dripping fangs. 

A reformed loox burst towards him claws first. Dust kicked out at the zombie, missing by an inch. 

The loox didn’t give him a chance to try again. It grabbed the blaster, yanked itself forward and bit down, ripping a massive chunk out of its lower jaw. The skull shrieked, a piercing, distressed sound that showed no resemblance to the gleeful bark it gave earlier. It bucked, flinging Dust off its back as more zombies crawled over it. The ground struck Dust's bones hard, jagged rubble from the walls gouged marrow coated shards from his body as he scraped over them. He bit his tongue to repress a cry when a line of agony shot up his leg from a shattered tibia. However, none of the monsters noticed. They finally dragged the skull down, swarming and chewing into it. 

Dust raised his hand. A bullet hole from his bone attack appeared in its forehead. The blaster vanished under them and lay still. It wouldn’t feel this. That was all the mercy he could offer it. It had no soul, no determination, it couldn’t become like them. He thrust down the pain in his throat and tried not to look at the dust spilling under the mob. Blasters were made from his magic; their bodies weren’t them and they had been sliced apart plenty of times in the past. He could recreate this one’s form later and it would be good as new. 

But he wouldn’t be much help to anyone if he froze up now. Including himself. 

A froggit raised its head. Dark slime spewed from the monster’s mouth as it shot a tongue towards him. Dust scrambled out of the way. Air sliced across his cheek from the narrow miss. From his new position the room beyond the spikes was visible. No obvious zombies, thank hell, but no Dream from this angle either. The crunching noises ceased, nine remaining undead wiped fresh powder from their lips, letting out low moans. With the blaster gone their red eyes refocused to the only living thing still in the room with them. 

They stampeded at Dust.

Instinct screamed at him to strike again.

He took a shortcut pass the spike barrier instead. 

Five seconds passed before the slamming, creaking noises started up against it again. His battered femurs throbbed as he pulled himself up. Broken bones stabbed at his nerves, but without healing magic all he could do was avoid putting too much weight on them and making it worse. 

Another stone brick hall, only a few darker areas of the floor differentiated it from the last. A stream of vines to his right rustled. Dust leapt back and summoned a row of bones into the air around him.

Dream’s head popped out of the foliage. His ears perked up as he bounced down. 

An attack struck the earth in front of him. 

“Stop.”

Dust’s stomach sank when the other curled in on himself and looked at him with wide eyed shock. However, this was how people on television got themselves killed. After what just happened, he wanted to prevent any more dangerous decisions. Without making any sudden movements, he walked around Dream and examined his body. Dirt coated the kitten in dusty clumps; his tail was half gone, but it was too smooth to have been from a zombie. More likely, it was the cost of coming here. No bloody fur, no bite marks and his eyes still shimmered with a beautiful golden light. Nothing like the dead beasts still clawing at their only barricade.

Thank you, thank you whoever the hell was up there. He dismissed his weapons. Dream lit up and rushed towards him.

The ground under the cat collapsed.

Dust’s soul jumped into his throat. He dove onto his stomach, thrust his hand into the hole and caught the other with blue magic. A sea of open hungry mouths stared up at him. They clambered over each other in the closed off space, clawing at Dream’s dangling body. Without the ground covering them their groans were deafening. The trapped stench of putrid decaying meat hit Dust like a punch. He fought not to gag. This had to be a pit made from one of the ruin’s under rooms. A snare someone had devised for the undead, until age and rot weakened the wooden boards shutting them off. 

Dream looked down. Bad move. He shrieked. Pixels flashed through his form as he thrashed and open fired arrows at the hoard’s snapping teeth. Dust’s body jerked, magic straining to hold the glitched cat. Dream slipped an inch before he could shove more energy from his already pained body into the struggle to keep him from falling further. The sound of pounding metal from the spike barrier behind him grew louder. It clanged against his skull in a frantic beat. He shifted his gaze from Dream towards it. Only two rows of spears originally separated them from the other room. Now, the first row was nothing but bent metal. A wave of zombies trickled through their new gap to attack the single remaining barrier.

Dust’s body went cold. He redirected a portion of magic towards the ground. If he could build another wall of bones, he could delay them until he pulled Dream up.

The blue glow around Dream thinned. He slipped again. Dust gave up on the barricade and hurled his remaining energy back towards him. Sticky sweat ran into his eyes.

“Dream you need to stop panicking!”

A loox swiped at the cat, almost seizing his tail. Dream yowled. Glitches consumed his body. 

Magic tore through Dust’s hands in a rope burn as he wrenched against it. “It’s okay you positive idiot! I came for you, didn’t I? I’ll protect you. But you need to calm down!”

He shuffled himself forward until the edge of the hole cut into his stomach and reached out as far as he could. Dream’s forehead squirmed under his phalanges. “Close your eyes and breathe, focus on my hand, remember?”

Dream buried his face in Dust’s palm, his movements slowed to a tremble. 

A froggit’s tongue shot out from behind the spikes, brushing Dust’s shoe.

“You’re okay, inhale.” 

Dream did. The rigidity in his muscles eased. 

Dust clenched his other hand into a fist. “Hold it.”

Tortured bangs echoed from the barrier. A claw shot out to snatch at Dust’s ankle. He ignored it. The static around Dream fell silent. 

“You’re okay, let it out gently for three seconds. One.”

A spike snapped. 

“Two.”

Dream stopped glitching. 

“THREE!”

Dust shrieked and yanked on his magic. A squeak escaped Dream as his body shot out of the hole. He struck Dust’s chest, toppling the pair backwards. Dust ripped his phone from his pocket and dialled Error. 

Zombies screeched as they finally broke through the metal spears.

“Get us out of here right now you hermit asshole!” he yelled at the device. 

A vegetiod missing half its face scurried towards them. Dust drove whatever magic he had left to his hands. Dim sparks prickled his phalanges before fizzling out. His mind and soul scrambled for a second attempt. Nothing. Nothing left.

Sludge filled jaws dove for his throat. 

Barbs pierced the creature’s chest. It exploded into a cloud of powder, coating Dust’s shaking bones. Dream hissed at the other monsters. When they didn’t slow, a storm of his arrow attacks ripped their bodies to shreds. Dust grabbed him and scrambled to the other side of the room, as far away from the dark upside-down hearts as possible. He turned Dream’s body, examining him. 

“I take back everything I thought about you being responsible. You could’ve lost something important. Like your head!” he scolded. 

Dream’s remaining claws blinked out. He nuzzled Dust’s nose.

A portal buzzed open overhead; strings seized the pair. Great, where was that half a second ago? Destroyer of worlds or not, he’d kill that lazy glitch. 

Dust headbutted Dream back as they shot out of the dead AU.

\-----

A fresh scent wafted out from the vial in Dust’s grasp. The orange liquid swished as he twirled it. Dream opened his eyes and watched from a basket on the workbench. 

“Nice twelve-hour nap?” Dust asked. 

He added a spoonful of sugar to the mix, trying not to look at the other’s nub of a tail, thin fur or whisker-less cheeks. Dream was alive but, if he lost control of his magic again, he could end up somewhere worse than Zombietale. That list was short, but it existed. 

A dry nose poked his hand. He scratched the other behind the ears, earning a blissful purr.

“Why are you trying to comfort me? This wasn’t your fault,” Dust said. His grip tightened around the vial.

It was his. His for making Dream small and weak. His for taking away his voice so he couldn’t just tell him what was wrong and definitely his for doing all of this for a stupid holiday. Dream wasn’t perfect. He was a blind, stubborn idiot with horrible taste in food and new friends. But he didn’t deserve this. And him? How was he any better than the murderous kid who made him and his AU their personal playground? 

The liquid gurgled as he added blueberry flavouring. Hopefully, this would taste better than his cooking, but this nutter would probably drink it anyway. His chest ached at the thought. Still utterly, utterly crazy. 

Dream stumbled forward as Dust stopped petting him to add a final drop of green fluid to the potion. 

Dream didn’t need to remember. He didn’t need to be with him.

He just had to be safe.

Dust poured the liquid into a saucer and nudged it towards the kitten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zombietale is an AU created by Zombie Frisk. The comic is amazing, and I recommend checking it out on their tumblr or trying the dub on YouTube. They all need love.
> 
> Almost there. The next chapter will be shorter than the others and it'll be the last in this fic. Thank you everyone.
> 
> Summary - Dust decides that he can't call the others for help as Nightmare would insist on going after his brother alone. Suicide when Nightmare fights mainly with his tentacles and he'd be facing hoards of zombies who spread by bite. Error won't come as he'd be too dangerous to risk becoming a zombie. Dust goes alone and uses his blaster to track Dream through the ruins. He comes upon a mob tearing into one of the spike barricades to get to Dream and dusts them. However, these things can reform after dusting. They attack, eat his blaster and badly injure him when he falls into a pile of rubble. He shortcuts pass the barrier and finds Dream unhurt...until the kitten falls into a pit of undead. Holding Dream above the zombies with blue magic is tough while he's glitching, but he does get him out just as the other hoard breaks down the spikes. Dream stops them himself to protect a tired Dust. Error pulls them out and Dust completes the potion to turn Dream back to normal, although he is aware Dream won't consciously remember his time as a cat.


	8. Meeting Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another mission and a chance to see Dream again.

Snow frosted fir trees passed him on either side as Dust bolted down the flattened pathway. He pulled his hoodie tighter around himself against the wind and checked on the fistfuls of crumpled letters tucked inside. They were all addressed to Comic. Some were typical bills with blackened, burnt edges. Others were junk mail advertising whatever new craze the local Temmies had latched onto.

Then, there were the pure white envelopes with expensive gold leaf embellishments and the royal wax seal. If Asgore didn’t want to risk phone records or any chance of Alphys listening in, it must be life or death. Too bad he forgot his judge’s position on proper postal care. In any case, Dust had dug them all out from the rest of Comic’s bursting mailbox and disappeared into the night. He could’ve asked Blue to hand deliver those letters. Yet, nothing quite said ‘important, get your act together’ like a Dark Sans rampaging through your backyard to make off with them.

Sirens rang out in the distance. Took them long enough to notice. His blaster soared above him, blowing booming holes in the foliage. No point making it too difficult for those dim-witted guards to find him.

An arrow swished pass his cheekbone. The blue gleam narrowly missed his jaw, but he had to smile. Dust spared a glance over his shoulder. 

Playtime already?

“Surrender! I don’t want to hurt you!” Dream said. 

The other skeleton bounded through the powdered snowbanks with a grace he hadn’t shown during their last meeting like this. Bright eyed determination replaced the shadows under his sockets. Although his voice still carried that ridiculous note of practised heroism, it was stronger, full of life. Maybe a holiday as a cat did him some good. Dust hoped so.

A second shot grazed his sleeve. 

“Woah, almost hit me that time.” Dust smiled.

With a twist, he turned and dove towards the other. Dream flinched. The bow morphed. Magic flashed as he swung.

Dust danced left, out of range. “You’re still aiming right, be original.” He jumped onto a tree limb as the staff swept at his feet. “Try again.”

Dream pouted at him and fled into the forest.

What? Had he screwed up when he transformed him back? Didn’t he want these letters? To ‘help’ Comic?

Branches creaked under foot as he followed. Ice on the bark slipped, threatening to trip him up. It might’ve been smarter to come during the day. Darkness offered him cover but it shrouded his vision to almost nothing. Moonlight reflected off Dream’s crown in a bright gleam. The glint weaved ahead before jerking and coming to a stop.

Was he out of places to run? Or was he waiting for his opponent like a good-mannered little prince? Dream was as hopeless as ever.

Dust lowered himself to the ground. A blunt bone buzzed into his hand before he strolled towards the glimmer. Defence was the target here, not harming the other. He’d take a few swings, dodge a few attacks, then pretend to drop his ill-gotten goods and run. Perhaps he could scream a one liner as he left. He always wanted to do that. It wasn’t a proper performance if the bad guy didn’t curse the good one after all. 

Dream’s crown hung from a branch. Without its wearer anywhere to be seen. Heat drained from Dust’s body. What the fu-

Arrows rained from the needle like foliage above him. None touched his body, but they pierced his clothes, slamming him into the grass and pinning him there face up.

“Gotcha!” Dream said. He climbed down and paused for a second before lifting Dust’s hoodie open to collect the letters. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

Laughter caught in Dust’s throat. His privacy had never been an issue when the other was a cat. Why should it matter now? Besides, he needed to check something important. A sharp jerk of the arm sent his sleeve ripping through its bind. Dream’s eye lights flickered, but Dust didn’t give him time to retreat again. While the other was still scrambling to grab his weapon, he reached up and scratched at the back of Dream’s skull. 

The reaction was instant. Fluffy fur sprang up under Dust's phalanges. Golden magic surged towards the other’s spine, forming pointed ears and a tail. Dream sagged onto Dust’s chest. He pressed his head into the touch and purred as Dust focused on the sweet spot he knew was behind the left ear. 

Dust smiled at the tail curling around his waist. Whole and gleaming with energy. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Dream closed his eyes. He pawed at Dust’s chest.

Ha, no claws this time. Still, it was cute to watch him try. These side effects would wear off, but he had to come and check on him just to be sure the potion had healed his body and magic properly. It had. Thank stars.

Flashlight beams shone beyond the tree line. Footsteps stomped towards them. Well, the angry mob was on its way. Ink might be close behind too. He placed the envelopes in Dream’s pocket and propped him up against a tree. Comic would get his letters and the guardian of positivity would be the hero of the day who chased off the big bad Dark Sans. Win. Win.

Dream opened his eyes slowly as his ears and tail receded, his expression cleared to a gaping look of pure confusion. 

Dust snorted at him as he opened a portal back home. “Take care of yourself Dreamy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun. Thank you to everyone for reading and feel free to leave me a comment or a kudo if you liked it.


End file.
